Madge
by CheeseLlama
Summary: "This year I have five entries. One for every year I've been entered into the Reaping. That's pretty much the only perk of being the Mayor's daughter. I don't have to take out Tesserae and have my name entered more times than necessary." One shot. Madge's perspective on the morning of the Reaping.


"Miss Madge, time to get up!" Brenner calls. I turn in my bed. I don't need waking up; I was already awake. I didn't sleep at all last night. I was too busy thinking about the Reaping today. I shouldn't be bothered. The likelihood of my name being picked is small. This year I have five entries. One for every year I've been entered into the Reaping. That's pretty much the only perk of being the Mayor's daughter. I don't have to take out Tesserae and have my name entered more times than necessary. I'm not someone like Gale Hawthorne. I was sure this year his name would be entered over forty times, yet he never seemed fazed by the idea that he has one of the biggest chances of going into the games. I have to admire him for that. I mean, here I am, with only five entries, worrying. I tell myself to calm down. There's no need to worry. I decide to focus on something else. Something like the fact that Brenner just called me 'Miss Madge'. Again. He's been working for us for over seven years now and no matter how many times I tell him to just call me Madge, he still addresses me as 'Miss'. I hate it. It makes me feel like I should be older or more self-important, of which I am neither. I'm just Madge, a sixteen year old girl who lives in District 12. Granted, my Father is considered more important than most in my District, however I am no more important than say, Gale Hawthorne. No matter what others think or believe I think.

"For the hundredth time this week, Brenner, please call me Madge," I plead.

"Sorry Miss. I can't do that," Brenner replies.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because its fun seeing you annoyed every time I say it," he answers with a big grin on his face. I can't help but smile at that. Brenner's always been like a big brother to me. Albeit, a much older brother, but still like a member of the family.

"So, you'll never guess what I'm making for breakfast this morning," he says.

"What?" I question as I get out of bed. Brenner helps me to straighten the duvet and readjust the pillows.

"Pancakes," he says very casually. He knows he will get a good reaction from me. I love pancakes. Not just for the taste, even though they are nice, but purely for the fact that whenever we have pancakes I get to help make them. We hardly ever have pancakes too. Only on special occasions, such as my birthday, the harvest festival...and Reaping day. I can't believe how quick my mind goes back to worrying. I try to focus on the prospect of pancakes.

"What topping are you thinking of today, Miss Madge?" Brenner asks. It's as if he can read my mind.

"Um...strawberries I think," I answer. Brenner smiles.

"I should've known."

I pretty much always have strawberries with my pancakes. Unless, of course, it's a dinner pancake, which then requires something savoury.

"And where are you going to dine this morning?" Brenner continues.

"The kitchen," I say. I have almost all of my meals with Brenner in the kitchen. I only eat in the dining room if my Mother or Father joins me, which is hardly ever. Father always has business to attend to and my Mother is usually in her room because she suffers from painful headaches. Thinking about my Mother makes me ask my usual question.

"How's Mother this morning?" I say as we begin our descent down to the kitchen.

"She's unable to get out of bed today. The pain's too much," he explains. That's his usual answer. She hasn't gotten out of bed since my birthday four months ago. It's a regular thing for me to go most days without seeing either of my parents. When I was younger I used to hate it. I guess I still do, although, I don't care as much as I used to. I have Brenner and Lark, our maid, to act as my guardians now. They both know me better than anybody else.

"However, she did tell me to wish you good luck. She also gave me something to give you a little later on," he says mysteriously. I wonder what it is. It must be something important if she's giving it to me on Reaping day. I ponder the idea as I pull my apron on and fasten it at the back.

"Time to get cooking!" Brenner exclaims once he's put on his apron. He hands me a frying pan and I set about putting it on the stove and adding a bit of pancake mixture. I tilt the pan up and down and left and right so that the mixture is spread around, then turn the stove on and wait for it to cook. I have to use a spatula to pry the pancake up every once in awhile to make sure it doesn't stick. Then it's flipping time. This is Brenner's favourite part. He loves to show off his skills in front of me considering I am quite bad at flipping. It usually ends up two ways. Sometimes I don't flip it with enough force and it ends up curling over. Other times I flip it with too much force and I don't end up catching it, resulting in a mess on the floor.

"It's all about putting just enough force into it that it flips and you can catch it afterwards," Brenner tells me before he hoists his pan off the stove and chucks the pancake into the air. It lands back in the pan with precision.

"Just like that," he beams. I roll my eyes and pick up my own pan.

'Just enough force,' I think to myself. I take a deep breath before flicking my wrist. The pancake lifts out of the pan and into the air where it flips once. I position the pan, ready to catch the airborne pancake. It lands so that it is hanging off one side of the pan.

"Damn it!" I cry. "I thought I had it!" I pull the pancake so that it is in the centre of the pan and then thrust it back onto the stove to let the other side cook.

"You got the amount of force just right. You just need to work on your catching," Brenner instructs. I nod and turn the stove off. Then I grab a plate and slide the pancake onto it.

"Why don't you try again?" Brenner suggests. I shake my head.

"It'll take me ages to finally get it right and by that time I'll have about thirty pancakes which we'll have to throw away," I explain. I certainly don't want to have to do that. People already despise my family for having so much, so if they ever saw us throwing away perfectly good food then they'd completely freak out. I wouldn't disagree with them though. If I were in a position where every crumb of food mattered and I saw a family tossing out a ton of food, I think I would get really angry too. That's why I always try to make the most out of my meals. I never ask for too much and I try not to throw anything edible away. It makes me feel bad if I do.

"Miss Madge?" says Brenner.

"Yes?" I reply, focusing back in on the present.

"Here are the strawberries," Brenner says, handing the bowl of fruit over.

"Thank you." I take several from the bowl and slice the tops off, throwing them in the bin in one swift motion. I then chop each strawberry into thin slices and arrange them on my pancake so that they look like a smiley face. I grin back at my masterpiece. It's the way I've been arranging the strawberries for years.

"Looks like we're running low on strawberries," Brenner notes as he removes a few from the bowl. "Will your friends be over with some more?"

"I don't know whether they'll be over as its Reaping Day," I explain. "And just to make it clear, Katniss is my friend, but Gale isn't. He hates me."

"What makes you think that?" Brenner questions.

"I'm the Mayor's daughter. He's from the Seam. We're both polar opposites. It just makes sense for him to hate me," I say. I stab my fork into the pancake, cut off a triangle and then shove it into my mouth. We're both silent as I chew.

"I'm from the Seam but I don't hate you," Brenner remarks. I swallow my mouthful before I reply.

"You're only saying that because you work for me and my family. I reckon that you would feel differently if you worked in the mines."

"Exactly! I like you because I know you. How about you give Gale the chance to get to know you? Perhaps he would change his mind."

I shake my head. "He already thinks he knows me. He would never agree to even having a proper conversation with me, let alone actually becoming my friend."

I cut off another piece of pancake and unload it into my mouth.

"You don't know that. Why don't you ask him when he pops by later?" Brenner suggests. I almost choke on my food.

"You can't be serious!" I cough. Brenner looks surprised by my reaction.

"I am perfectly serious."

"Even if I did ask him, he would say no straight away. There's no point in even trying," I decide.

"Well, all I'm going to say is you won't know until you try."

* * *

Once I finish my food I go upstairs to change into my Reaping clothes. I notice how my dress has been laid out on the bed, ready for me. I take a quick bath and then slip on my dress. It's one of my favourites; white with a flouncy skirt and short sleeves. I pair it with some white pumps and finish off the look by tying my hair up with a pink ribbon. I have a brief look in the mirror before I dash back down to the kitchen. Brenner is stood washing dishes when I enter. He turns at the sound of my footsteps. His face breaks into a smile.

"You look beautiful Madge," he comments. I look down as I feel my face begin to heat up.

"Thank you," I reply. "It's a shame this dress has to be wasted on a Reaping though. I feel quite ridiculous dressing up to watch people be sent to their deaths."

Brenner nods. "Perhaps after the Reaping we can have lunch in town. That way you won't feel as though dressing up was a waste."

"Okay," I agree. Brenner turns to go back to the dishes, and then stops as he remembers something.

"I almost forgot. The gift your Mother sent." Wiping his wet hands on his apron, he walks over to the kitchen cabinet, reaches in and retrieves an item.

"Your Mother wanted you to have this to help bring you luck. It was your Aunt Maysilee's. She was Reaped at the age you are now," Brenner explains. My brow rises. I wonder why my Mother would give me anything that was her sister's. After all, my aunt did die in the Hunger Games and anything that was hers is considered precious by my Mother.

"What is it?" I ask impatiently. Brenner smiles as he hands the gift over. I recognise what it is as soon as I hold it within my grasp. It is my aunt's mockingjay pin. I've seen pictures of her wearing it when she was my age; a little while before she went into the games. I feel honoured just to be able to hold it. I know how dear it is to my Mother.

"I shall treasure it," I promise. I begin to fasten the pin onto my dress. Just as I do up the clasp, there is a knock at the back door.

"That'll be your friends," Brenner says. "Remember my earlier suggestion." He quickly whips off his apron before he exits the room. I grab the coin purse from the shelf beside the refrigerator, smooth the skirt of my dress and then pull the door open. I am met by the kind face of Katniss, and the glare of Gale.

"Pretty dress," he says. My eyes narrow slightly. Is he being serious? Is Gale Hawthorne actually complimenting me? I think back to what Brenner told me, about trying to be Gale's friend. Would it actually work? No. I shake the thought away. Gale isn't really complimenting me. He's messing with me. Well, two can play at that game. I force my face into a smile.

"Well, if I end up going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?" I reply back. Now Gale looks confused. His facial expression is almost laughable. It's a shame when it returns to its icy appearance.

"You won't be going to the Capitol," he says coolly. I notice how his eyes focus on my aunt's pin. I probably shouldn't have worn it when I knew we would be receiving a visit from Gale and Katniss.

"What can you have?" he continues. "Five entries? I had six when I was just twelve years old."

I look down. Gale really knows the right thing to say to make me feel bad.

"That's not her fault," Katniss defends.

"No, it's no one's fault. Just the way it is," says Gale. He's right about that. The Reaping system isn't fair to those with little. It's fairer to those who have more; although, really, having your name entered into a contest where you have to fight to the death is fair to no one. I think about this as I hand Katniss the money for the strawberries. She passes me the fruit and we wish each other luck before I close the door. I place the strawberries on the counter and sigh.

"Rough morning?" comes the familiar voice of Lark. She puts down her bucket and walks over to the sink. She gently twists the tap head and rinses her hands under the flow of water.

I nod. "Can you believe it? And the Reaping hasn't even started yet."

"I wouldn't worry. Everyone's feeling it today," Lark says, towelling her hands off. "The mood should pick up later, once it's all over."

I give her a sad smile. "I suppose so."

Lark moves around the counter and pinches a berry from the container.

"Will you be walking to the square with me and Brenner?" I question. She shakes her head.

"That's very kind of you, Madge, but it's my sister's last Reaping and I promised her I would help her get ready," she explains.

"Then you must go," I reply. "Tell your sister good luck and congratulations from me."

"Thank you. I'll be sure to send her your wishes," the maid says. She quickly unties her apron, grabs her things from the hook by the door and exits the house. I think about what it would be like to have your last Reaping. It must be a relief. I only have three more now; two after this one.

* * *

"Are you ready to go, Miss Madge?" Brenner questions. I look up from the book I've been staring at for the past hour. Brenner stands in the doorway, a sad smile on his face.

"I guess," I reply, snapping shut the book. I place it on top of the piano and make my way over to Brenner. He holds his arm out and I grab hold of it with both hands. If my fingers dig in too deep he doesn't say anything; Brenner knows how nervous I get on Reaping day.

As we make our way to the square we get caught up in the crowds of people. It's horrifying how many young children there are. I grip hold of Brenner's arm tighter than before.

I have to let go of him eventually. He wishes me luck before leaving to stand amongst the crowds of family members. I watch as he positions himself beside a family from the Seam, and then make my way to the signing in station. I pass through that quickly and before I know it, I'm standing amongst all of the 16 year old girls in the District. I look around and spot Katniss. She nods and I smile in return. She then goes back to watching Prim whilst I turn my attention to the stage. My Father and several of his advisors are sat down, waiting for the Reaping to begin. I try to catch my Father's eye but he's too busy focusing on a point in the distance. I go back to scanning the square and somehow my gaze finds Gale's. He glares at me and my eyes flit to the ground. I decide to keep my eyes fixed there from now on.

Finally my Father stands up to the mic and begins reciting the usual speech. Once he's done with that he calls Effie Trinket to the stage and takes his seat. I feel my stomach start to turn and I have to remind myself that I'm in a public place and throwing up will probably embarrass my Father. I take deep breaths and focus on the braid of the girl in front of me.

Before I know it, Effie is calling the names. First is the girls. I close my eyes and cross my fingers as I pray my name isn't called. It shouldn't be called, I mean, why would it? I only have 5 slips. That's nothing compared to what Gale and Katniss have. Oh no. Katniss. Her name is in there over 20 times. What if her name's called? I begin to include Katniss in my silent praying. It works, although, not quite in the way I'd hoped. Neither mine nor Katniss' names are called, however Katniss' sister Primrose is. The crowd gasps. I see Prim step out from the crowd and start towards the front. I'm tempted to raise my hand and volunteer; no 12 year old girl should ever have to go into the Hunger Games. I'm too late though, as Katniss steps forward and takes her sister's place. Prim starts to scream and the sick feeling comes back to my stomach. My friend – my _only _friend – is going into the Hunger Games. What if she doesn't return? Who's going to look after her family? I know her Mother became depressed when Katniss' Father died; what is she going to do if Katniss dies? Who's going to care for Prim?

No Madge! Don't even think about that! Katniss will come back. She is going to live. And you're going to help her get back. Yes.

My train of thought is interrupted by the piercing sound of Prim's scream. I look over at her and my heart brakes. She's absolutely distraught. I start to go over to her, but once again someone beats me to it. It's Gale this time. He lifts her off the ground and carries her over to her Mother, then takes his place in the crowd of 18 year old boys.

Gale. His name is entered over 40 times. I'd be surprised if it _isn't _him. I watch him as the boys' names are called. He looks relieved, but also annoyed at the fact that it wasn't him. It's Peeta Mellark whose name is called. He's the baker's son. He's always been kind to me when other people haven't. Now he's going into the Games.

I realise something then. In order for Katniss to come back, Peeta has to die.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I've had this on my laptop for a while and discovered it whilst I was looking through my documents. I wrote it in the midst of my Gadge obsession and had intended for it to be a full story but never had the time to continue it. Thought I'd put it up to let my Madge see the light of day.**

**Please review and tell me what you thought. Thanks!**


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